


Absinthe and Lethe

by Mithen



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, Wonder Woman (2017)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne - Freeform, past Diana/Steve Trevor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 03:24:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12290178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithen/pseuds/Mithen
Summary: On the first anniversary of Superman's death, Diana and Bruce share a drink in France and take a walk into what used to be No Man's Land.





	Absinthe and Lethe

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [苦艾酒与忘川](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13745844) by [Lynx219](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx219/pseuds/Lynx219)



> A birthday gift to Ilovetobefree! A little bittersweet, but there's hope there too...

It’s the first anniversary, and Diana has come to know Bruce well enough to know that he doesn’t want to be in Gotham for it. Let other people give emotional speeches to the memory of Superman, let them stand before his grave and weep. Bruce doesn’t grieve that way.

That’s why they’re in a small bar in France, sharing a drink.

Bruce’s French is as impeccable as his tie and his tailored jacket, but he lets Diana order for them both. When the drinks come, he lifts the small cut-crystal glass to the light and grimaces at the virulent green liquid within.

“You know what they say: Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder,” he says, and Diana has to choke back a gurgle of unexpected laughter.

“A pun? From Bruce Wayne?”

He twirls the glass slightly and shoots her a look. “You can’t prove it,” he says. The light glimmers through the bright green of the liquor, making it seem to glow from within. “Absinthe. Supposed to cause hallucinations. Made from wormwood.” He pauses and casts his eyes up in thought, then murmurs, “there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters; And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.” 

She isn’t sure the quote was meant for her, but of course she recognizes the words from one of the holy books of Man’s World. Revelations. “And have you?” she asks.

“Been made bitter?” His smile is half-mocking and half-warm; she suspects the former is not directed at her. “I was bitter long before any great star from heaven fell into my life.” He lifts the glass in a salute. “To those we have loved and lost,” he said.

She can drink to that.

* * *

Later, they walk through the night, into what was once No Man’s Land. It’s barred to entry now, a _Zone Rouge_ where the soil is soaked with chemicals, laced with bones and bombs. Trees loom in the mist, touched by moonlight. It’s quiet except for the soft hooting of an owl, the trickle of a distant stream. Diana finds it strangely beautiful, here among the ghosts and the memories. She doesn’t know what Bruce thinks of it. He says nothing, his hands in the pockets of his cashmere coat, the silver in his hair picked out by moonlight.

“I thought, once,” says Diana, “of journeying to the Underworld, and seeking the river of Lethe. So that I could drink and forget.”

She feels rather than sees Bruce nod slowly. “Is there a way to get there?” he asks, his voice light and casual, as if he is not discussing trips to the realm of the dead with a demigod.

“It’s not on Google Maps,” Diana says, and startles a short bark of laughter from him. Some night bird takes flight from a branch nearby at the sound. “But yes. I know the way.”

There’s a long silence. “You chose not to go.”

“To forget would be to kill him once more. I’m the only being in the world who remembers the exact pattern of the laugh lines around his eyes. The way his body moved when he danced.” The sound of his voice when he whispered rapture into her mouth. “I would live forever with the pain to keep that echo of him alive.”

Bruce seems to consider this. “My memories of him are mostly… his suffering.” _That I caused,_ he does not have to say.

“That has value too.”

He crosses his arms and stares into the haunted woods. “Actions have more value,” he says. “And I can’t act if I don’t remember.”

It sounds like a decision, like a vow, and Diana decides to take it as such. “Then we will do both,” she says. “For the ones we have loved and lost.”

Bruce nods. “Well. There’s work to do,” he says. He sounds almost happy. 

He turns his back on the ruins and the wreckage to stride forward once more, and she joins him.


End file.
